Firesong
by tokara2132
Summary: A year after the Miranda Wave, Jonah, Tomas, and the rest of the crew of the Firesong makes their way of life through collecting bounty. Some spoilers ahead! Read and Review, thats an order!
1. Beginnings

**Fan Fiction Name**: Firesong.

**Chapter Name**: Beginnings

**Blurb**: A year after the Miranda Wave, Jonah, Tomas, and rest of the crew of the Firesong makes their way of life through collecting bounty. Some spoilers ahead!

**Disclaimer**: Can you guess what will be said here? If you guessed "Firefly is not mine", you'd be right. OC's galore here! See Authors notes below.

Start

Bars on the border moon of Whitefall were known throughout the system to be crowded, smelly, and packed full of all manner of unseemly folk. The Child of Paradise in particular earned this reputation in spades, often playing host to the nimblest of pickpockets, the greediest of mercs, and the bloodiest of cutthroats. It was a literal magnet for the worst of the Alliance.

And it is for this reason it is also a great place to catch and claim bounties. Today, the bounty was an ogre of a man named Maurice Gordy. Murder and vagrant wanted on the Core world of Beaumonde for the murder of two Alliance officials and three Alliance soldiers. The price on his head: 5,000 credits. It was time to get paid.

At least, it should have been time. Gordy was nearly an hour late to the bar.

"Damn criminals. Never know when they need to show up on time," a man muttered to his two companions while looking at his nearly empty glass. This man, clad in all grey, twisted his unshaven face into a boredom driven grimace. His right hand, calloused from much work with his hands, unconsciously stroked his revolvers hilt as the other grasped at the cup before bringing it to his lips and finishing the last of the sake.

"Jonah, are you sure Graces info is right?"

Jonah is shaken out of his thoughts as he turns to the right to look at the man who talked to him. This mans clean, deep colored clothing was a sharp contrast to Jonahs own dull-colored clothing. His clothing, like his face and his talk, is clean and well kept. His attention, however, obviously was ragged and torn. For the last forty five minutes, he was turned to the nearest Cortex feed, amusing himself with the random commercials while Gordy was more and more late.

"You know Grace. She says she got reliable info that he comes here every other day. Right around this time, too. You should trust her to do her job, Tomas," Jonah replied, his gaze moving from his glass to the Cortex feed.

"Yeah, and she probably got it by sucking on some honorless _hundan_," the third man said suddenly, his voice touched with bitterness. This man, despite Tomas' deep, richly colored clothing, looked most out of place in rather flashy clothing. His clean face and small stature gave him the appearance of someone just on the end of their teens.

"Watch it, little man," Jonah says angry, growling slightly at the young man. "She's good at what she does, Mordy…"

"Mordecai," the young man interjects immediately.

"..and it don't mean anything to you how she gets the info. Plus, anyone who insults my blood've been known to be missin' teeth afterwards." Jonah continued, ignoring Mordecais' interjection.

Jonah was starting to open his mouth again when a series of taps on his shoulder turned his attention to Tomas.

"Jonah, look," Tomas said, his voice serious. Jonah turns to Tomas, whose eyes are glued on the Cortex feed. Jonah turns his head quickly to see a woman s fearful face as her mouth moved noiselessly in such a loud bar. In front of her, images of long dead bodies flash.

The Miranda Wave. It had been nearly a year since this lovely piece of forgotten history was brought to the light of day. Broadwaved from the relay station on the moon of Constantinople, it was more than just a disturbing showing of a Reaver attack. It showed that not only had the Alliance known of the Reavers, but that they somehow created them. It destroyed the ruling party and the Prime Minister, making her and most of the Parliament resign. The Alliance was thrown into chaos, but they eventually were able to crawl back. The ruling party now, jokingly referred to as the Rangers, had actually done some good (as politicians go), and uncovered a couple other conspiracies. The biggest one included the Blue Sun Corporation. Jonah doesn't really know the details, but it had to do with someone high on the bounty list that was no longer available.

"Earth-that-was to Jonah."

Jonah was again knocked out his thoughts by Tomas, who had a large grin plastered on his face.

"Huh, what? Oh, just thinkin' is all. What's up?"

"Big and ugly finally decided to make his entrance," Tomas said, nodding his head in the direction of the bar.

Jonah followed Tomas' gaze to a very large man who was now sitting at the bar, imbibing in the finest of alcohol this sort of establishment could provide. Maurice Gordy was all manner of ugly. His large bulbulous nose looking like it had been broken multiple times. His wild, greasy hair was strewn about over the pale, pockmarked skin of his face. He looked to weigh a good 300lbs, and looked to be nearly six and a half feet in height.

"Wow. Grace wasn't kidding," Mordecai said incredulously.

"And why would she do that for?" Tomas asked as he quickly drew one of his short barrel rifles off of his shoulder holster. He starts inspecting the gun, his face serious.

"Well, she did tell me that…" Mordecai started.

"Whoa, whoa. Ain't no need to start with that again, Mordy," Jonah interrupted. His hands snaking down his sides and under his coat, both hands on revolver hilts.

"Mordecai. She did lie to me when she fist came on," Mordecai said, his eyes moving towards Tomas, who is still examining his gun. After a second, he looks up, a confused look on his face.

"What? She said something about me?"

"Yeah. She said the two of you were 'sweeties.' Plus a little tidbit that you'd break my neck if I tried anything with her."

Tomas begins sputtering as Mordecais lips twist into a smirk.

"She just didn't want you to try and get into her pants is all," Jonah said non-chalantly, his attention still on the man at the bar.

"I would not have, either. I am a gentleman," Mordecai hissed back.

"She told you that she and I were together?" Tomas asked weakly.

"Yeah, she did."

"_Ta-ma-de_."

"Plus the fact that she hung off of your shoulder every chance she got."

"Really?" Jonah said, his eyebrow arched at Tomas.

"Uh….yes…sir…but it was only for the first month…" Tomas started quietly.

"Month?"

"…"

"Right. We get back to the Firesong, we're gonna have a talk. Till then, lets get paid. Now, Tomas, you and I are gonna get behind him. We're gonna try to Freud him," Jonah said, his voice low and serious.

"I don't think we've tried that before. Should be fun," Tomas said, his face immediately covered in a small smirk.

"Shiny. Now, Mordy…" Jonah starts. He stops when he sees Mordecai get up out of his chair, his hand on the hilt of his revolver.

"Mordy, sit down and before you put yourself into really stupid _go-se_," Jonah says in a warning voice.

Mordecai mutters something under his breath before drawing his revolver out of the holster and walking towards the bar, his target clear.

"_Guay_," Jonah muttered.

"Are you Maurice Gordy?" Mordecais voice and accusatory tone quiet the majority of the bar, most of them turning to see a young fool about to get himself killed.

"Who'd be askin'?" the deep, scratchy voice of Maurice Goodly responds, the big man not even turning around.

"I am Mordecai Zanabek, and I am bringing you to justice. You are hereby…"

"Bind me by law and I'll put ya in a world a hurt," Gordys deep voice interrupts as the big man gets off the stool he sat on. He slowly turns towards Mordecai, his serious face turning to a sadistic grin as he sees the young man.

"You ain't the law, boy. If'fn you be a bounty hunter, I've left many a yer kin fer dead. You ain't wantin' to be in that number, would ya?" Gordy asks.

"Too bad I shall not be among your dead. You shall meet justice," Mordecai says back, his voice tinged slightly with fear.

"Justice ain't gonna do ya any good, little man," Gordy says, slowly stepping towards the little man.

"Justice armed with three guns is pretty helpful if you ask me," came Tomas' voice from behind Gordy, followed by three loud, audible "Clicks".

"_Ma-de_," the big man said as he raised his hands and turned his head, looking down the barrels of Tomas' single drawn rifle and Jonahs revolvers.

"Don't much care for your language, but I'm glad to see your cooperating. Now, do anything stupid, I'll shoot ya," Jonah says, before a rather sick grin stretches across his face. "Hell, I'll shoot ya now!"

"Yeah, we'll…wait, what?" Tomas said, his face showing deep confusion.

"I said 'I'll shoot him now'. You have a problem?"

"Well, didn't the warrant say 'Alive'?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Doesn't shooting someone make them the opposite of alive?"

"Not if it's in the leg. I'll make sure to shoot 'im there."

"Well, 'leg' for you has more often than not become 'gut'."

"Hell, it ain't…"

Jonahs sentence is cut off by a sudden movement from Gordy, followed by a muffled "whump." Jonahs attention is diverted from the "Freud" to Gordy, who is running towards the door in a way too fast for a man his size, knocking Mordecai to the ground with a painful yelp. Tomas is the first to level his weapon, his rifle barking. His shot only clips the big man as he makes his way through a crazed and confused crowd. Jonah tries to level his revolvers when he sees Gordys proximity to the door.

"_Guay_," Tomas yells as he tried to level his rifle again, trying carefully to hit Gordy.

"Its shiny, Tomas," Jonah says as he brings his hand to his ear, tapping a radio receiver hidden in his ear. "Johansen, he's running. Now!"

There is no response on the receiver, but when Gordy gets out of the door, two things happen: The first thing that happens is a loud gunshot rings out, scattering the people near the door. The second was Gordy yelping loudly as he hits the ground. Jonah runs towards the door, slowing a bit to shake Mordecai a bit, who is still on the ground holding his nose. Mordecai rolls a bit before painfully making his way to his feet. He staggers slightly to see Jonah and Tomas leveling their guns on the big man. However, it seems a bit excessive, as the man is holding a blood-soaked leg with a very large wound in the middle of the shin.

"Good shot Johansen," Jonah said into the receiver, his mouth slightly agape.

"Just doing what you pay me for sir," the small voice whose gender was unclear on the other end responds.

"Well, get back to the Firesong. We should be done here soon and I don't think we'll have any more problems," Jonah says, his voice turning authorative.

"Yes, sir," Johansen responds. After a second, the voice pipes up again. "Oh, sir?"

"Yes, Johansen?"

"You have something in your teeth."

Jonah ponders a moment before shutting his jaw quickly, looking up towards where Johansen had been.

'Snipers,' Jonah thought bitterly as he turned towards Tomas and Mordecai, who were tying the now still man. Jonah looks towards Tomas, who looks up and, upon noticing Jonahs gaze, nods his head as he begins dragging Gordy, who is still but his eyes are locked in a death gaze on Tomas.

Jonahs hand reaches for his ear again, tapping on the receiver twice before speaking again. "_Mei mei_, are you there?"

"_Ni hao_, Jonah. How'd the job go," a second voice responds. This time, the voice on the end of the receiver was strong and feminine.

"It went okay, Grace. But tell Duke to prep the medbay. We need treatment for two gunshots…"

"_Liu kou shui de biao zi he hou zi de ben er zi_," the muffled but loud voice of Gordy says, followed by a sickening "whump."

"..and a concussion. Plus, get some soap." Jonah continues, sounding as if nothing happened.

"Huh? Gunshot and concussion I get. Why soap?"

"For Gordys' mouth."

The voice on the end begins giggling before it becomes serious again. "Take care, Jonah."

"You too, Grace."

The receiver fizzles slightly as the connection is broken. Jonah pulls the receiver out of his ear before turning his attention back to the scene ahead, with Tomas and Mordecai pulling the now-unconscious Gordy. Once the big man was on the small hovercraft, Tomas looks up to Jonah, his face less than serious looking.

"Hey, Jonah?" Tomas asks, his voice almost humorous in tone.

"What is it, Tomas," Jonah said as he mounted up the 'craft.

"We still got some time. How about we get something to eat?"

"Do ya always get hungry after a job?" Jonah asks back, a smile crossing his face.

"We have been working together for eight years Jonah. All the way back to the War. Of all the things you should know about me, its that," Tomas says chuckling before settling down in the seat adjacent to the pilots seat.

"Well, this was certainly a victory for us. I guess a little celebration be in order."

"Victory is sweet, and it often tastes like fresh Bao."

Finish

**Authors Notes**: This is my first story, let alone Fanfic. Feedback is appreciated. Hell, if I don't get it…my head might explode. You don't want that, do you?


	2. Home

**Fan Fiction Name**: Firesong.

**Chapter Name**: Home

**Blurb**: A year after the Miranda Wave, Jonah, Tomas, and rest of the crew of the Firesong makes their way of life through collecting bounty. Some spoilers ahead!

**Disclaimer**: Can you guess what will be said here? If you guessed "Firefly is not mine", you'd be right. OC's galore here! See Authors notes below.

**Reader Challenge:** Find the non BDM movie references and get a prize! These prizes vary, but sometimes include nothing, an all expense paid trip to your house, a mental pat on the back, or even 100,000 credits, paid in full plus interest once humanity leaves the solar system.

Start

"How much longer until we get back to the Firesong?" Tomas asked impatiently from his seat. Jonah sighed slightly in frustration. Tomas was always so gorram impatient. Once a job was done, he was often finicky and bored out of his mind until he was back to the ship. He had asked that question in particular 3 times in the last 30 minutes.

"Stop it, Tomas. We got five more minutes 'till we get to the Firesong, so hold your horses and stop complaining. That is an order, _dong ma_," Jonah says, his attention on controlling the rather touchy controls on the hovercraft. Ever since…

"Ugh," said the disgusted sounding Mordecai, his nose wrinkling as he turns away from the still unconscious bounty next to him.

"Mordy…" Jonah began.

"Mordecai."

"…is there a problem?"

"Nothing. It's just that Gordy needs a bath really bad."

"If you're willing to sponge him down, go right ahead."

A series of strangled gasps and garbled words from Mordecai give Jonah a strange sense of satisfaction. The young man was always a bit snobbish in his ways, and it gave Jonah a little sickly-gained relief to get him to sputter on like that.

"Hey, Jonah," came an unexpectedly lustful tone from Tomas. Jonah turns to see Tomas eyeing the controls, his eyes almost glazed over with lust and a devilish grin on his face.

"Can I…" Tomas begins, but is cut off by horrified responses from his colleagues.

"No, Tomas!"

"Don't let that _feng le_ pilot touch the hovers controls!"

Tomas' expression went from lust to disappointment almost immediately, his voice piping up, "Why not? I am the pilot, after all…"

"…and you damn near killed us the first time you went out on it!" came Jonahs horror filled finish.

"Hey now! It wasn't that bad!"

"Did you just say 'it wasn't that bad'? You almost wrecked the hover!" Mordecai yelled from his seat as the hover whizzed by an open market. Tomas shot Mordecai a sharp look before turning back to Jonah. "Come on, Jonah! That was six months ago. I'll be okay. I'm not some snot-nosed kid who can't tell his head from his _pi gu_. Besides, I'm the pilot. I should…"

Jonah lifts his right hand and holds up a single finger, which immediately silences Tomas. "You're a damn good pilot, but you tend to get a bit reckless. Even in the war, you would do stupid stuff. This is just another example. I will pilot the hover. _Dong ma_?"

"Yes, sir," was Tomas' small response.

Jonah turned back to the road but say his attention was for naught. They were on the docks and his ship, his home, was in clear view.

The Firesong was an old ship, a Stockholm Class Mid Bulk. The largest of a family of ships that included reliable ships like the small personnel ship class Kenku and the second largest ship style known as Firefly, it shared many physical traits with its smaller brethren. The same basic body structure was shared between the three of them, with the only major differences lying in the Stockholm itself: the cockpit was not as high-arching as the smaller Firefly, the jump drive was cone-shaped rather than abdomen-appearing, and the Stockholm also had two stationary high-power engines in the back. It was old and a bit of a mess, but still mattered.

"No place like home," Jonah said quietly to himself as he carefully flew the hover into the slightly barren cargo hold, where he brought the hover to its bay port. The front latch hooked securely to the front while the main body of the craft, sinking without power, sinks into the bay slides that keep the machine level when not in use. Jonah is the first to jump off, allowing Tomas and Mordecai to get Gordy off of the hover as he made his way to a nearby comm. terminal.

"Grace, ya there?" Jonah asks as he hears Tomas and Mordecai grunting and groaning as they get Gordy to a secured seat, locking him in place in the series of bare seats.

The comm. terminal crackles a bit before the voice of Grace responds. "I'm here. Y'all get on okay?"

"We did, _mei mei_. We're gonna get paid today. Johansen back?"

"Yeah. Hey, is there something wrong with Duke?"

"There a lot of things wrong with the old man."

A snort is heard through the comm. before Grace starts again, " Seriously. When I contacted him, he sounded kind of freaked."

Jonahs brow furrows for a moment before his eyes widen. "_Ta ma de_!"

"What is it? Do you need me to get him?"

"The walls are closing in! The walls are closing in!" came a yell from the direction of the common area.

"Nope. Found him," Jonah responds as he quickly flips the comm. off and turns to face the common room. Seconds later, a short, balding man with wild, unkempt hair where he still had some left came running out of the common room, his face full of terror. Mordecai jumps up and tries to get in the way but is bowled over by the old man as he makes his way at full speed towards the open air lock. Mordecai gets up, cursing under his breath, and immediately takes off after the fleeing man.

"Another attack of claustrophobia?" was Tomas's words from Gordys chair as he made the last restraints secure.

"Yep. They keep gettin' worse, too," Jonah responded as he reached for the comm. again. "Johansen we need help in the cargo bay. Get down here." Once finished he put the comm. back and went to work, knowing Johansen would not respond. About thirty seconds, the tromp of combat boots signaled Johansens arrival.

"Good. Johansen, I need you to…gah!" Jonah yelps as he averts his eyes. Except for a rather large crucifix, Johansen was shirtless.

"Jonah, something wr…ack!" Tomas asked before turning himself and immediately averting his own eyes.

"What?" came Johansens small inquiry.

"You don't have a shirt," Jonah said matter-of-factly as he managed to avoid Johansens bare chest.

"And?"

"You don't have anything under it."

Johansen just shrugs.

"Go get a shirt on, gorramit!"

Johansen leaves, Jonah turning to Tomas with a mixture of shock and confusion on his face. "I've told that damn woman to not do that, and still she does it!"

"Usually can't tell, but her damn bare breasts give away the fact that shes sporting different chromosomes then the men. Oh, and whats the count at now?" Tomas asks, his face curling into a small smile.

"Lemme see…it's at eleven now."

"I'm still holding my bet at fifteen."

"And I'm still standing at twenty." Jonah replies as hard breathing marks the return of both Mordecai and Duke. Mordecais face is a rather interesting shade of red while Dukes is a deep crimson. "Sorry…about…that…Jonah," Duke says between heavy breaths. His thinning gray hair, usually unkempt, is now even messier.

"Its okay, Duke. I know how ya get," Jonah replied, almost apologetically as Tomas stands up from the final restraints on Gordy.

"He has two wounds: a graze on his arm and a large wound in his leg. Do what you can," Tomas said as he moved away, moving towards the doorway to the common room.

"I will get to business," Dukes says. He turns towards the doctors medlab in the bay when he turns to Jonah. "After we're done here, may I go see to my 'buisness'?" he asks with a overly-suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

"We'll be on Beaumonde in fives hours time. You can get your trim there," Jonah says as he shakes his head. For an old man, Duke sure was a horny dog.

"Shiny," was Dukes response as he started towards the medlab.

"Oh, Duke?" Tomas calls from the common room. Duke stops and turns as Tomas sticks his head into the bay. "Johansen was topless again."

Duke turns an interesting puce color as he stalks to the medlab. Jonah and Tomas exchange knowing glances before Tomas heads towards the cockpit.

Tomas made his way to the cockpit, his second home on the ship. He may be a damn good gun hand, but he belonged on the deck of a ship. He always enjoyed flying, had since he was younger. But when they went on jobs, he was the muscle. Big guys, no matter their intelligence, are always seen as muscle. These flew around Tomas' mind as he made his way to the cockpit, not noticing the slight footsteps behind him.

Tomas sits down in the pilots seat when he finally realizes someone was behind him. Before he can react, two slender arms snake around the front of his chest as the person behind embraces him. "Gorramit, Grace! You know you shouldn't do that," Tomas says as he relaxes as the arms retract and a hand rests on his shoulder.

" 'Gorram it'? Ain't you gentlemen from the Core not supposed to cuss?" came the soft, humored response of Grace.

"I may be from Ariel, but I am far from a gentleman," Tomas says back as he turns to face Grace.

Tomas is immediately drawn to her eyes. They are a deep green, with flecks of brown and red mixed in. Her lips and hair, in their fullness and luster, call his attention immediately afterward. He doesn't go any lower. Gentleman or not, it just isn't respectful to stare at a womans chest, no matter how…perfect.

"You guys have any trouble with Gordy?" Grace asks, knocking Tomas out of his thoughts.

"Other than him weighing a ton, no. Johansen put a hole in his leg when he tried to run," Tomas answered.

"Great. A hole in the leg, Duke goin' nuts…"

"…and Johansen was topless again," Tomas ended, his face stretching into a grin.

Grace begins giggling, before saying, "Again! Jeeze, what is that, the tenth time she's been topless since she came on?"

"Eleventh, actually. And Duke missed it again."

Both of them begin laughing heartily, Grace nearly doubled over before the laughter dies down. After a few seconds, the laughter dies and Grace gets an odd look in her eyes.

"You guys have a bet going, right? I want in," Grace said, her face twisted into a mischievous grin.

"O..kay? What will you bet?"

"I wanna put it on thirteen. That's always been my number."

"I got that. What will you bet?"

"Well…" Grace started as she leaned in closer, her eyes on his. Tomas' heart starts thundering as she begins to lean in.

"Am I interrupting anything?"

Tomas jumps as he turns to face Jonah. "N…not at all. There was…I mean…uh…Grace wants in on our bet." Jonah is standing at the cockpit door, a serious look on his face and his arms crossed across his chest.

"Hm. Well, I want us in the air in thirty minutes. Get us to Beaumonde in one piece. We'll get another hit there," Jonah says seriously.

"Something wrong, Jonah?" Grace asks sweetly, acting like something hadn't happened.

"Nope. But I wanna get going. I feel like we're carrying around the Necronomicon for kicks expecting nothing will happen," Jonah replies.

"Necro-what?"

Jonah gives Grace a look of utter disbelief before turning and leaving without a word. Graces gaze goes from her brothers retreating back to Tomas, whos' attention seems preoccupied by some switches on the helm.

"What? What'd I say?"

End

**Authors Notes**: Ha ha ha! The second chapter is up and ready! The guy I'm working with is working on the pictures as we speak, so once everything is done we'll have character drawings for everyone and a showing of what the Firesong actually looks like. I'd be hoping to see some reviews between now and the next chap. See ya soon.


	3. Bounty

**Fan Fiction Name**: Firesong.

**Chapter Name**: Bounty

**Blurb**: A year after the Miranda Wave, Jonah, Tomas, and rest of the crew of the Firesong makes their way of life through collecting bounty. Some spoilers ahead!

**Disclaimer**: Can you guess what will be said here? If you guessed "Firefly is not mine", you'd be right. OC's galore here! See Authors notes below.

**Readers Challenge**: Hey, I'm thinkin' of making this a normal occurrence. Spot the geeky subculture reference made in the chapter. This time around, it's video games. Find the reference if you can. (Also, I'm surprised no one caught the reference from Chapter 1. Here's a hint, it's from another sci-fi series.)

START

Firesong, in all its antiquated majesty and grace, entered the atmo of Beaumonde with a shudder. Its entrance into the upper atmosphere was fiery and majestic. There was, however, one problem with this wondrous entrance.

Firesong wasn't supposed to shake around.

Jonah cringed inwardly and stumbled into a wall when a second shudder rocked the ship. He was in the dining area minding his own business while Johansen cleaned her guns and Wham! The whole ship starts shaking like a wooden roller coaster. A loud thud and string of hoarse Chinese curses from the common area indicated that either Duke had just decided to take up some as of yet unknown drinking game involving hammers or he had just become intimate with a bulkhead.

"_Ma de_! Tomas, what in the sphincter hell are you…" Jonah begins when he sees the cockpit doors shut. Stumbling forward as another bout of violent shaking overcame the ship he was glad to see he wasn't alone. Grace, unlike her namesake, was stumbling across the floor like a drunk after a half-dozen shots. Jonah and Grace cautiously went forward as the ship became silent, save the hum of the lights and the distant rumble of the engine. Jonah opened the door to Tomas' childlike laughter.

"That was bracing!" Tomas said excitingly as he turned to face the now open door, a large, goofy grin plastered across his face.

"Are you _feng le_? What just happened?" came Jonahs rather irritated response.

"Nothing Jonah. We were just coming into atom just a bit steep. Why?"

"You were shakin' up the ship! I thought she was gonna ruttin' come apart!

"You shouldn't worry, Jonah. Firesong is really well built," Tomas responded as he began to lovingly pat the helm.

"Well so was the Hindenburg. Don't do that again, _dong ma_?"

With a small nod from Tomas, Jonah turns to face Grace, who's face betrays her curiosity and eagerness.

"Why are you looking at me that way and what did you do?" Jonah asked as he walked by his sister, her face now showing shock and insult.

"I didn't do nothin'!" Grace said as she followed behind her brother. "I just wanna know who your gonna take with ya to see Hortance and tell her we got the hit."

"I was just on my way to wave her. And why exactly are ya so interested in whos comin' with me?"

"Well…"

"No, no, no! We've had this discussion before! I'm not gonna take ya! Not yet!"

Graces begins to pout slightly as the two make their way to the dining area. Johansen, in her normal duds of extremely loose pants and shirt, holds one of her many rifles as she rubs it vigorously with a cloth. Damn woman always keeps her guns clean. Almost too clean.

"Sir. Normal approach?"

"No. I'll be takin' Mordy this time. He needs the experience with Hortance and should see how hard it is to not get killed when he becomes so gorram stupid," Jonah replies. He opens his mouth to say more when a muttering Duke makes his way into the room.

"_Ai ya_! Bet I…Oh. Hello," came his awkward response to seeing three sets of eyes on him. He was talking to himself. Again.

"Hows Gordy?" asked an amused Jonah, whose face was screwed up as he tried not to smile. So far, it had failed entirely.

"Well, he was getting to be a bit uppity. Also, he thought it would be a convenient time to turn cannibal," Duke says as he points to a sharp cut on his arm "…so I decided to give him a smoother. He stopped gnawing on my arm, but theres a nice little surprise on the floor of the med bay."

The members of the crew in the room, save Johansen, began laughing. Dukes hoarse chuckles masked the appearance of Mordecai, who stood at the doorway leading to the common room.

"Whats so funny," he intoned as he looked curiously upon the laughing crew.

"Nothing. Oh, Duke told me of something in the Medbay needs work on. Why don't you do that while we get ready to dock."

"O…kay? I'll do that." With that, Mordecai turns and disappears. Once he is presumably out of ear shot, all of them began laughing hysterically (this time included a slight chuckle from Johansen).

"Well, I'll be sendin' Hortance that wave. Get ahold of the 'proper' authorities while she's at it," Jonah says as the laughter dies down. The crew there nods when the intercom crackles and Tomas' voice comes on the speaker.

"Attention, crew. We'll be setting down in the New Dunsmuir docks in about five minutes. Until then, I suggest that we make ourselves very shiny for the Feds."

"I'm off," Jonah says as he begins down the stairs. He makes his way without incident until he gets to the bay. Mordecai, mouth covered by his hand, gives a death glare to Jonah. Ignoring it, Jonah continues to pass the restrained seats, where a very confused Gordy sits.

"How we doin' there Gordy?" Jonah says conversationally as he settles in front of the bays Wave center. Gordys eyes are unfocused as he turns slowly and opened his mouth.

"I…don'…wannna…go…ta…school," came Gordys slurred voice as a little drool dribbled onto his jacket . Smirking slightly, Jonah inputs Hortances Wave address and places the wave.

"Hortance Gainsborough here," came a gruff and deep voice as a rather heavy-looking womans face appeared on the screen.

"Hortance, it's Jonah. We'll be settin' down in the New Dunsmuir docks in about five minutes."

"Damn, your quick, Browncoat," Hortance replied as Jonah cringed inwardly. How she found out he was an Independent, he'll never know. But it hasn't brought him much grief, save the irritating nickname. "So I'll take my standard fare and give you a new hit. And he better not be missin' a limb…"

"It was a FINGER! And that wasn't my fault. Johansen was the one who shot her!" Jonah yelled indignantly. Hortance chuckled a little before becoming serious again. "Like I said, I'll get your new hit…"

"Wait, whats up? Why you actin' weird?"

"Well, I was contacted for a bounty on someone who's supposed to be on Haven. Othing on the surface smelled, but I've been looking over the file and its weird. I'll tell you when I get there." With that, the screen went blank. Jonah didn't have long to consider before the ship was again shaking. This time, it was controlled and methodical. The New Dunsmuir Docks were based around a canyon, where massive arms would grab mid-bulk and smaller ships. Firesong, despite being large for a ship of that type, would still be grabbed by these. After a few seconds, the shaking stopped and Jonah opened the bay doors to the large New Dunsmuir Common Market. From his vantage point, he could see the many sights. Well, sights that could exist for someone who ain't a tourist. The flea Market, the brothel (not that Jonah went there often. That was Dukes place of interest), and the two bars of note in the area: the Red Tengu and the Maidenhead. Jonah didn't stay long to gaze, however, as he immediately turned to Mordecai.

"Mordy…

"Mordecai."

"…get Gordy unstrapped and bring him up front. Also, call Duke and Tomas. Tell Duke he can go to his place of business, and tell Tomas to get down here."

Mordecai acknowledged Jonah, pulling off Gordys restraints and pulling Gordy to his feet.

"Yay…I…gedda…go…park…" Gordy mumbled as Duke and Tomas came to the bay. Without saying anything Duke walked past Jonah and was making a bee line towards the brothel, wearing a disturbingly happy face as he did so. Jonah only give Tomas a knowing look while Tomas shakes his head at the retreating figure of Duke. Mordecai comes up behind the two, his left hand of his revolver and his right on his hip.

"Hey, Mordy…" Jonah starts.

"Mordecai."

"Don't stare at Hortance."

"Why?"

"You'll see."

After three minutes of waiting, and a small scoff from Mordecai on how time sits still for the waiting, a big meaty woman who turned out to be Hortance walks up with three Federal marshals. One, presumably the leader, stepped forward, to address the crew.

"Nate Colliran, Federal marshal. I have been informed you have a fugitive aboard this ship."

"Yes. We caught him and claim any and all bounties on his head. The fugitives name is Maurice Gordy. Any bounties will be payed to broker Hortance Gainsborough," Jonah said as he pulled Gordy up to the head of the group, who was still muttering to himself.

"All well and good. Maurice Gordy shall be bound by law. Payment shall be in credits. Is this acceptable?" came Collirans practiced response. Hes dealt with bounty hunters before, Jonah mentally noted before turning his attention back to the dealings.

"I want this thing bound now. I must say you have done the Alliance a great deed." Colliran said, his face almost indignant as the other two marshals picked up Gordsy and helped (well, mostly dragged) the doped Gordy down the ramp.

"Good for the Alliance," was Jonahs response, dripping with sarcasm. Collirans look went from dignified to confused before turning and saying something inaudible to Jonah in the loud atmosphere of the docks. Hortance merely nodded before the feds left. Once the feds were out of sight, Hortance turned to the crew and walked up to Jonah.

"Heres the info for the next hit. If you wanna look over it, go ahead. You'll see what I meant when I said weird."

Jonah scanned the holographic document for a second before furrowing his brow.

"Wait, this guy don't have a capture."

"It gets stranger. It only lists alias', but gives no real name. I'd turn it down, but the money was way too good."

"How many…" Jonah as he finally saw the amount on the holodoc and nearly choked oh the air he was breathing.

25,000 credits.

25,000 credits for finding a nameless man. No wonder Hortance accepted it.

"Last confirmed sightings of the man were on Xingyang year and a half ago and Haven about a year ago. Hes also thought to have ties on Persephone and Higgins Moon of the unfriendly kind. Since Havens only about an eight hour ride from here this time of year, you could start there. And if it turns up cold, I got another hit lined up."

"Sounds good Hortance. We'll wave ya once we get there."

" I'll transfer the credits into your account. Good flying, Browncoat," Hortance calls as she turns and walks away from the bay doors. Jonah again cringed before turning away.

"Why did you say not to stare?" Mordecai asked as Jonah began to walk towards the common room.

"What?" Jonah said as he turned to face the younger man.

"You said I'd stare at Hortance."

"You didn't? Good job."

"Why did you think I'd stare at him?"

"Her," Tomas interjected from his position, his face now holding a smirk.

"Hortance was a she?" Mordecai asked.

"Yep. Hence the name. When Duke gets back, we head off to Haven, _dong ma_?"

Mordecai simply nods, his mouth hanging open in shock.

Yep. It was always good to make him to leave him stupidly speechless.

FINISH

**Authors Notes**: Chapter three is up for your viewing pleasure! And congrats to Panda-Kun (sp. Sorry man!) for getting the reference from the last chapter! You mental pats on the back are being sent via Pat-Mail Psychic services!


	4. Haven

**Fan Fiction Name**: Firesong.

**Chapter Name**: Haven

**Blurb**: A year after the Miranda Wave, Jonah, Tomas, and rest of the crew of the Firesong makes their way of life through collecting bounty. Some spoilers ahead!

**Disclaimer**: Can you guess what will be said here? If you guessed "Firefly is not mine", you'd be right. OC's galore here! See Authors notes below.

**Readers Challenge**: Spot the geeky subculture reference made in the chapter. This time around, it's a very specific one. It has to do with and extraordinarily geeky thing created about thirty years ago by guys with last names like Gygax and Anderson that deals with pencils, papers, and funny looking dice. Find the reference if you can.

**START**

The Black can simultaneously be the most open and the most lonely of places to be. It can mean absolute freedom, but at the price that should anything go wrong the crews are subjected to the most brutal and unlivable conditions of the 'verse. The cold, dark of space can also be a bright, shining beacon to those who look for a better present and brighter future than what is given to them. But, in a place as isolated as the Black, the mind can bend and twist in unknown ways. The most common is for a mind to idle on the task ahead, no matter how far from the destination the ship may be.

For Jonah, this mechanism of the brain was running at full bore as Firesong slid through the Black, the destination being the obscure and under populated planet known as Haven.

Jonah had wandered the ship for three hours time, moving from place to place aboard the ship, his mind consistently on Hortance's info. Specifically, there were unanswered questions about the nature of the info and the suspicious nature they had received it. Why had Hortance given them this info? This was a woman who had a small but successful business brokering info to bounty hunters on large scale hits. Hell, at one time she had contact and business relationships with both Yahaira Kerlin and Jubal Early, before the former had her head blown off and the latter disappeared. Why them, a crew that had been solid with their retrieval of hits but known for their grace (or lack of it) to keep them off of large-scale hits. Hell, Gordy was their largest hit in the last five months.

Why this man? He was, by all means and purposes, a damn near perfect killer. A master of Tehn style sojutsu, a sniper caliber shot, and by all means a ruthless killer who had a knack for getting a hold of the best (and worst) of society and leave them torn to bits or filled with holes in the most dramatic of ways. This man was more artist that bloodthirsty killer, almost like he was trained from birth to be utterly dedicated to the ideal of death and strove to make it beautiful. This man was dangerous and a possible threat to Jonah and his crew. If this guy knew that Firesong was after them, he seemed to be the kind of guy who would spend a great deal of time and effort to simply make them suffer. Only the Alliance, even nowadays with the "kinder, softer hand" of the Rangers guiding them, could come up with such a killing machine. Come up with something like an Operative.

Another note would be Hortances' odd behavior back at the docks. She was acting all manner of suspicious. She always had the crews under her employ meet her in her building to discuss payment and strategy. She always gave complete or near complete info to the crew.

But the money…oh the money was good. One hundred thousand credits. Either this was a high profile military case (which is what Jonah would put the most money on), or Hortance had gone stark raving mad and lied through her teeth (an interesting, if unlikely possibility).

So there they were, making their way to Haven, damn near the farthest back you can get in backwater. Only Jiangying and Burnam could get more backwater than Haven. Only Burnam is physically farther back from Haven.

Well, other than Miranda. And no one has gone near Miranda. The Reavers, hurt badly during a massive air battle above Constantinople, were still there en masse. And only a full blown armada could have taken them down. An armada the Alliance didn't have. Too many planets, too many moons were threatening secession to gather an armada large enough without losing several moons. Among them would most likely be Shadow, Jonah and Graces home moon.

"Jonah, please come to the bridge."

Tomas' voice over the intercom shook Jonah out of his thoughts as he got up. Jonah, after wandering, somehow made his way to his bunk and had been on his bunk for the last few minutes. He got up and left, turning to the cockpit to see its doors closed. With a frustrated groan, he opens the door to see Tomas and Johansen huddled over the screen of the computer. "Did you find anything interesting? Some good porn, perhaps?"

Tomas didn't respond to the comment, instead motioning to the screen. "Here, take a look at this," he said as he continued pointing to the screen. Jonah looked haphazardly at the screen to see the capture of a rather haggard man, along with a list of criminal offenses ranging from smuggling to tariff dodging.

"This guy don't look too bright. Why am I caring again?" Jonah asked as he looked over the screen. Tomas looks up, surprised, before looking down at the screen again.

"Oops. Got ahead of myself. Here, let me start from the beginning." Tomas hit the screens back button several times before getting to a screen that looked all to familiar: the info page of the Man with No Name, as Mordecai had come to call him.

"Now, our man here had last been seen on Haven, correct?" Jonah nods and with a nod of his own Tomas continued.

"Now, I've been looking at the ingoing and outgoing records of the nearest docks to this gentleman's last known location, and found something interesting. There was a single ship docked there in the time between his known time on Haven and his last sighting on Jiangying, which also had records of this ship there."

Tomas hits the forward button to show a rather decrepit looking ship, as well as some technical data. However, from the design and familiar looking design, it had to have been a ship of the same family as a Stockholm class ship, like a Tengu or a Firefly.

"This ship is the ship that was in both locations. Now…"

"Rather poetic name for a ship, doncha think?" Jonah said, noticing the ships name.

"Well, Firesong is pretty poetic, don't you think?"

"Yeah, but it wasn't my first choice, remember."

"Anyways, I was thinking our man may have been on the ship under one of his alias'. So, I went over the crew roster for some names. Well, this name came up, and I thought 'wow, this is familiar to me'."

"O…kay?"

"_Wo de ma_! This name isn't ringing any bells, Jonah?"

Jonah simply shakes his head from side to side as Tomas lowers his head. Johansen looks between the two of them, before turning away with the smallest hints of a smile. Jonah notices this and turns to her, his face serious.

"Johansen, you have anything to add to this conversation?" Jonah asks, his voice the serious sergeant voice. Johansen looks up, shaking her head to the side. Jonah turns his attention back to the screen, where he begins to concentrate on the screen again.

"Ahh. It's cute when its trying to think," Tomas says, sarcasm dripping off his tounge like saliva from a starving man at a buffet. Jonah opens his mouth to make a quick witted response when it suddenly came to him.

"Wait, wasn't he at Du Khang with us?"

"_Wo de ma_! Finally you remember!"

"Yeah, he was a sergeant from the 57th. I was still a corporal at the time. We were stuck in that ruttin' school for ages and they were the only backups we had gotten in a week."

"Anything else about this situation you finally remember?" Tomas asked as he nodded, his face looking like it was a mix of amusement and relief.

"Well, not to much. 'Cept for that damn amazon always followin' him around. Either she was ruttin' his brains out or she was a dyke with strong manly ties to him, the way she acted with him around."

With this comment, Jonah is completely puzzled when both Tomas and Johansen begin to laugh (or, more specifically, Tomas roaring in laughter with Johansen giving a series of amused chuckles). Jonahs face screws up in confusion as he looks to the screen again for a clue. After some seconds, when the laughter dies down, Jonah uncomfortably says, "Okay, I missed something here."

Tomas, struggling to keep from laughing again, shows him the next two pictures on the crew roster. Jonah looks at them for a second before giving a knowing smile. "_Cao ni zuxian shi ba dai_! It's the damn amazon, and she done got married to another guy." Jonah gives a soft chuckle, before turning to leave.

"It is an improvement, sir," came Johansens quiet voice. Jonah turns to Johansen, whose looking at him with a blank face. After a second, Jonah turns away, loudly muttering "Dman thing I needed, a sniper not makin' any sense." Tomas turns to Johansen, his face nearly as puzzled as Jonahs.

"What did you mean by that?" Tomas asked the blank faced woman. Johansens lips stretched slightly to hint at a smile.

"It took him two minutes to catch on to your constant hinting, but immediately saw the connection between the 'amazon' and the other man."

Tomas chuckled before turning to the controls, his face becoming serious. "There is a problem though. Those records are over year old, so the hit may have gone already."

"Any hints?"

"I'm thinking it mat be the…"

Later…

"You did what now?" came Dukes disbelieving voice, all the crew sitting at the table in the common area. Tomas was in the middle of telling a story. Apparently, on the first day he was allowed to take the controls, the ship had been under attack by privateers and had to dump most of the cargo they were hauling into space. However, the captain was a tricky sort of guy and had the ship swing around to scoop up most of the ejected cargo. With the normal pilot unconscious, Tomas had to do it. He did it quite well, but had burned too soon and hit the ships with the brunt of the wake, damn near destroying both of them.

It was something they all enjoyed. The sharing of stories before a job. Especially a hard one. It was a tradition of sorts that held sway since Johansens first job aboard the ship.

However, the beeping of the request alarm made Jonahs heart sink. Tomas got up and somberly walked towards the cockpit, before saying something over his shoulder.

"Welcome to Haven."


	5. Revelation

**Fan Fiction Name**: Firesong.

**Chapter Name**: Revelation

**Blurb**: A year after the Miranda Wave, Jonah, Tomas, and rest of the crew of the Firesong makes their way of life through collecting bounty. Some spoilers ahead!

**Disclaimer**: Can you guess what will be said here? If you guessed "Firefly is not mine", you'd be right. OC's galore here! See Authors notes below.

**Readers Challenge**: The geeky reference is from a great movie that has only come out within the last year, is British, and is in and of itself a reference to the great horror movies of yesteryear. Think "Zombaid".

START

The dusty, dry surface of Haven rustled and burned as the Firesong rushed by, a blur of steel and exhaust. The low foliage rustled violently as the steel behemoth cruised by, unaware of its own affect of the landscape. Small creatures turned fearful eyes skyward as the large shadow loomed overhead. They kept their eye on the large skybound craft as they continued their routine, warily watching the ship to make sure it was not a predator out for their blood. Luckily for them, the prey of the Firesong was that of a nameless man who was supposed to be in his fourties.

So, Jonah decided to use his secret weapon. His twenty one year old sister: Grace.

Now if only she stopped stalling.

"Gorramit Grace! We've landed already!" Jonah yelled up the stairs to his sister, who seemed content to hold up in her room. However, he knew why she was stalling the way she was. She had to face the one thing she hated most before doing anything. The one thing that terrified Grace beyond all logic and comprehension.

She had to get an inoculation.

Grace had fought tooth and nail and nearly got knocked out twice as she struggled against the combined strength of Jonah, Tomas, and Mordecai as Duke carefully inserted the needle into her arm. After another couple of seconds fighting, she calmed down, then became cheery about the mission almost immediately. Jonah just shook his head as Grace headed down the ramp, almost as if they were going to go have fun at Persephone Falls like a little kid.

Sometimes, he really didn't understand his sister.

Sometimes, she really didn't understand men. Why were they always trying to be so protective of her? She knew how to take care of herself, damn it! She knew how dangerous this kind of work could get, but they still treated her like some horribly dainty little flower that was on the verge of breaking.

Then again, the fact she was deathly afraid of needles and acted like she was being buried alive when she needed a shot probably didn't help things.

Sometimes she wished she could be a bit more like Johansen, but immediately squashed that idea. Why be like that. It was like she was just another guy and would never get any sort of romantic attention from them. Hell, she'll probably be ogled a little bit in the off chance she forgets a shirt and then she back to being Johansen, the shim.

'Hee hee. Shim. That's a funny word. I'll have to copyright that,' Grace thought as she made her way to the now dusty town as the hot noonday sun pounded down on her. Jeez, even seven planets away and the heat was intense, as she looked up at the bright yellow-white star. She frowned at the broght ball in the sky and turned her attention back on the road.

'I wonder if the Sun that Earth-That-Was was around was like this,' she thought bitterly as she sauntered her way across the town, finding the one place she looked to start her digging. One thing she had learned to do in her early days of info-gathering with Jonah was that one proud, happy truth remained true on every planet: Bars and saloons were information goldmines.

The first bar she found was rather crowded for it being midday. However, the clientele was a bit…well…odd. It was a mixture of ages, but predominately it was a relatively young group. They seemed to be, well, working. Not drinking. Not flirting. They were putting up planks and well…not doing things that people did in bars.

"Excuse me, are you looking for work," asked a young boy, no older than sixteen. Grace inwardly frowned before turning to face the young man. "Actually, I'm just passing through. What's going on here?" Grace responded, her hand motioning to the room around her.

"Oh, we just had a big windstorm and the front parlor was blown in. I'm guessin' you want a drink?" The young boy said. Grace nodded in response and followed after him when he turned and walked towards a back room. The back room seemed far more like the style of bar she was used to, just a bit crowded. Grace gave a quick view, immediately categorizing the people. Normal drunkards. People stressed from the job. The young workers. And the last was the hostess, a rather stunning woman with a face that seemed almost like a mask of stone. Her skin, the color of light coffee, betrayed her to be of mixed heritage, much like Grace and Jonah. What struck Grace most about this woman was the fact that she carried herself lightly, carefully controlled. Much like a warrior.

Like Jonah and Tomas.

"You here for a drink?" came the hostess' voice as Grace took a seat at the bar.

"Yeah, I'll have some beer," came Graces response, backed by the patented Grace smile. Everyone trusted it.

Well, almost everyone.

"Alright. Who are you and who are you looking for?" came the hostesses cool voice as the beer got to her. Grace made no outward motion, but was being tossed about inside. 'How did she know? How _could_ she have known? Wait, wait, Grace. Your jumping to conclusions,' Grace thought.

"Just looking for someone is all," Grace responded, her eyes not leaving her drink. The older woman simply gave her a knowing look before turning away. Grace takes a swig of the beer and then turns her gaze to the woman, a look of awe on her face. "This is damn good beer!" Grace announces loudly, gaining a few annoyed looks and a curious glance from the bar hostess. "Well I'm glad you like it. I made it myself."

'Well, I must certainly try to bring this along when I leave,' grace thought before turning back to the woman. "You know, I didn't get you name."

"Zoe. Zoe Washburne."

"Shes late," Mordecai said as he carefully torqued a part of the hovers engine. Tomas and Jonah were beside him, Tomas testing the control system and Jonah sitting aside looking bored. Jonah scoffs and opens his mouth to answer when a small message appears on the nearest screen.

"I am at the Hoban Tavern. Met me there," was Graces not-to-serious voice as the message ended. Yep, her first transmission, usually to discuss where and when to find someone or to find other clues.

"Well, shall we get going," Tomas chirped as he got up and began climbing into…

"Get down from there!" came a terrified response from Mordecai as he gotten up in time to see the big man start to move into the seat. Tomas' death glare was only ceased by the cool look given to him by Jonah. Grumbling quietly to himself, Tomas slid over one. Getting a nod from the now greasy Mordecai, who shut the engine compartment with a loud "Snap!", Jonah powered up the hover and upon leaving the confines of the Firesong, turned and made a beeline into town.

The trip, which lasted no more than five minutes, ended with the Hover docking at a rather dilapidated building with lots of construction going on. Tomas was the first to jump out, his eyes scanning the building as his hands slowly reached for one of his rifles. Once he was sure of no danger, he motioned to Jonah who quickly jumped down and, upon making his own inspection, walked forward. He was greeted by the sawing of wood, the hammering of nails and (oddest of all) the laughter of women. Making their ways towards the back room, they saw something that they could not believe.

Zoe Alayne. The infamous Zoe Alayne, also known as the Ice Cold Amazon, was laughing.

"Well, I'll be damned! If it ain't the Amazon herself!" came Tomas' amused voice as the two of them walk forward. Zoes attention turned from Grace, with whom she was laughing with (and indulging in some spirits herself) to the two men who just walked in. After a couple of seconds, her eyes flashed with recognition. Her face going from happy to almost mischievous.

"Well well well, I haven't seen you two screw ups in years," came her cool reply, her voice hinting at amusement. Tomas instantly winced, remembering a rather embarrasing incident that happened on New Kashmir.

"Hey, now, we've been screw up free for, well, a month now!" Jonah answered back as he began to chuckle slightly. "So, is it true?"

"Is what true?" came Zoes response. Her voice held much confusion as the two men went to the bar. "Yeah, we heard you, the Ice Cold Amazon of all people, got married. Is…" Jonahs words instantly failed when a mixture of the original Zoe he knew came out, but there was one big difference.

Her eyes were watering. Was she…about to cry?

"Damn it, Jonah," Tomas muttered. "Well, I'm sorry about what happened. Well, think of it this way, the bastard must be knee…" Tomas was unable to finish as the strong womans fist instantly contacted with his nose. Tomas heard a distinctive "crack" and recoiled, fighting hard against his instinct to draw his guns.

Jonahs face went from horrified, to confused, to understanding within the second. He knew something was off. Her reaction was not like the woman they had managed to get to know all those years ago. She was little more than a shell of her former self.

Graces face went from confusion to shock. Somehow, they had known this woman. But from where? How? Then the impact came, and Graces face went to shock. Why did she just hit Tomas? Why?

In a low voice that echoed through the freakishly silent room, a voice that was little more than a whisper responded. "What is in a week?"

Tomas, his nose bloodied and most likely broken, looked up to the woman. His eyes, originally angry, subsided as two things happened. One, grace quickly jumped from her seat and immediately went to Tomas' side. Second, he knew what was in a week. Damn near everyone did.

"The signal…"

"There will be a gathering here. If you wish to come, you may," came Zoes voice as she walked towards a back room, her face stoic but her eyes nearly bursting. After a few seconds of dead silence, Jonah looked to his beaten companion and his sister, the concern for the bloodied man readily apparent. After a few seconds, they both nodded, with Tomas getting up with the help of Grace.

"Hey, Tomas. You got red on you," Jonah said, his voice a mixture of humor and shock. Tomas' brow furrowed before looking at his blood-stained shirt. Immediately he glared at his companion.

"Shut up," Tomas managed to grumble as the three made their way out of the quiet bar.

**END**

Authors Notes: God damn! After nearly a month of school work, personal problems, and much needed time with my girlfriend, Firesong is now back on track! As always, R and R!


End file.
